


Watching you

by Tardisangel67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Light Masochism, M/M, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Shower Sex, Stalker Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tardisangel67/pseuds/Tardisangel67
Summary: Dean Winchester is mostly known for his kill streak, but Castiel wants to know him a bit more intimately.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was inspired by @autisticandroids on Tumblr's headcannons on a potential serial killer Destiel romance and other Destiel content that made me want to write this smut. Hope you all enjoy !

This is it. This is the moment he had been waiting for with such impatience. Castiel had finally found a way to track him down. It hadn’t been easy, even the police hadn’t made the connection, but that’s because they don’t know him like he does. Castiel knew everything there was about him, the famous murderer, Dean Winchester. He had visited the small home where he had grown up in Lawrence, Kansas, visited his parents’ grave, met his estranged brother who now works as a lawyer in California, and even stolen an exemplary of his police file on the occasion of a thoroughly planned hookup in the archives of the police department in charge of his case. If there was something to know about Dean Winchester, Castiel knew it. Now some may call this obsession “unhealthy”, or “too much”, or even “disturbing” but he couldn’t help himself, he felt compelled to admire this man. It was inexplicable and yet it was the realest inclination of faith he had ever had. Never had he felt so powerfully about someone, not his family, not his parent’s beloved God, not even the affection he held for his ex-wife could compare. He needed to know Dean, to love Dean, to serve Dean. And now here he was in the same roadside motel, he could see the man’s parked car, a vintage 67’ Impala, through his window, and even better, he could hear Dean shuffling around his room, since he had been able to get the one right on top of his. His thoughts raced through his mind, filled with the extasy of being so close to the one he most desired. _And what if…,_ his mind started, _what if…_ -no there was no way… but this place did fit his MO, so Castiel let himself be overcome with the thought. _What if he was here to kill ?_ _What if he got to witness Dean in his art ?_ A shiver of pleasure went down his spine. That would be a dream come true. So far nothing hinted to that possibility but Castiel let himself imagine it while he laid down onto the ratty motel bed.

Meanwhile, on the ground level of the motel, Dean also laid, but on the floor, panting. He had done it, done it again, and somebody knew. Another body was found by the police, but they didn’t seem to be linking it to him or to be growing any closer to knowing his identity. He was still a free man, but Dean remained haunted by the idea that someone knows. Someone knows his identity and has been taunting him. He had received three letters so far, but knowing the ease with which the letters found him, he lived in fear of the arrival of the next one which meant he had been found again. These letters weren’t delivered by postal services but by untraceable ways such as handed to him by the motel staff or slipped under the windshield of his car. Meaning that the author is nearby. Now, the content of the letters wasn’t threatening per se, but they were clearly written by someone far more deranged than even he is. “You practice a beautiful art of death.” “I admire how to evade all suspition except mine.” “I see your killings as an angry love letter to God.” Who the hell writes things like that ? Dean was far from normal he knew but this was a whole other level.

The truth was that Dean had never actually killed a human in his life. He hunted monsters, whether they be supernatural or all too real. He would have visions of people doing horrible things and then he would meet them and he knew he had to kill them. He didn’t even recall most of his kills. Dean only killed while he was in a trance, a psychologist had told him it was a split personality issue and his lack of stable family structure that led him to these violent outbursts. He didn’t feel remorse per se since he couldn’t remember the crime and the victims weren’t good people, but he did feel as though he was possessed by another entity that was slowly taking over him, and he needed it to stop. He had tried his best to resist these pulsions but he couldn’t, they were just too powerful. He didn’t even really chose his victims, they just were in the wrong place at the wrong time when his senses let him know they were monsters and the need to kill them appeared. There truly was not art or reason to it.

Dean got up and decided to go for a drive to pick up some food.

Castiel was torn from his fantasies of bearing witness to Dean’s art by the sound of the downstairs door opening and slamming shut. He rushed over to the window to catch a glimpse of the object of his admiration. For a man who committed such awful acts, Dean was surprisingly good looking, probably in his late thirties like he was. His physique sure didn’t leave Castiel indifferent, but he had mostly fallen in love with his passion, his art. If anything, his attractiveness somewhat offended Castiel, he didn’t want Dean to be desired by others. He wanted to be his sole admirer. Of course, through his observations, he knew that Dean had many romantic and sexual conquests, but they didn’t share what he and Dean had, a deep bond forged in a common passion.

As he watched Dean fumble with his keys, he imagined those hands around his neck choking the last flickers of light out of him after a night of unhinged lovemaking and providing him with the ultimate release. He would enjoy letting Dean take his life, it would be the best gift he could give him since he already had decided to devote all his time to his pursuit. He would need to be a special kill though, not just a roadside slaughter, he wanted Dean to hunt him down craving him the same way he had craved Dean. His death would leave Dean both filled with the pleasure of the kill and with the satisfaction of eliminating the only soul who knew him well enough to be his downfall, as his last breath would be the sound of his success.

The sound of the Impala driving away brought him back to reality once again. Dean had left him here alone. Though he was pained by his departure, Castiel was excited by the idea that he might have gone out to kill and would return drenched in the smell of peroxide covering blood. Oh how he longed to smell Dean and know what his close presence felt like. Suddenly a thought dawned on him: Dean had left most of his belongings in the room. He was standing less than 10 feet vertically from real Dean Winchester’s possessions. The only thing standing between him and touching what had been touched by him was a lock and a relatively weak bolt. He observed the bolt on his own door deducing that the chain wasn’t small enough to break by kicking in the door, but that the screws holding the chain were quite worn down, so with a small screwdriver he might be able to dispose of them. That still left the lock. It required a key. Dean had surely taken it with him, but Castiel was willing to bet on the fact that the reception kept a copy in case residents were causing too much chaos. He got up and changed into something nice in case Dean had set up surveillance. Once he was dressed to seduce, he made his way down to the reception and asked the clerk about some random supplements he had remembered from the motel leaflet in his room in hopes of making him leave the room for long enough to be able to snatch the second pair of keys to the coveted room he could see behind the desk. After two unsuccessful attempts to ask a question which would require the clerk to get assistance, the wifi code, and the presence of gluten in the complementary cereal bars, he was able to get him out of the room to check the spa treatments at the spa down the road. Castiel snuck behind the desk and picked out the keys to Dean’s room leaving the lobby empty at the return of the clerk.

Standing in front of Dean’s door, he took a deep breath. This was insane, he knew it, but he was completely and fully crazy when it comes to Dean. As he unlocked the door with the stolen key he remembered how he used to be so scared of breaking rules. Now, it was easy. Dean had made bad choices easy for him. _Leave your wife because she won’t help you track him down ?_ _Easy. Quit your job to have more time to chase after Dean ? Easy. Whore yourself out to gain access to more of Dean’s information ? Easy. Commit a crime by breaking into his room ? It’s barely a crime, easy._ Dean had removed fear from his vocabulary.

As he stood in the motel room, surrounded by Dean’s few possessions, he felt a surge of awe. This is where he lives. He locks the door behind him and walks over to the bed. This is where Dean Winchester sleeps. He reached out and touched the dent in the bed left by his body. It was cold. Disappointed, he wandered over to the small pile of clothing that sat on the desk. It was composed of a pair of jeans, two flannel shirts and some socks. He leaned in and laid his cheek against the soft flannel cloth imagining he was pressed against Dean’s chest. He pressed his lips to the fabric then continued his tour of the room. He walked into the bathroom and found the wall opposite to the shower covered by newspaper clippings and pictures. It seemed as though Dean was gathering information for another kill. He hoped he would be able to catch a glimpse of the body in his trunk before he burned it like he usually did. The rest of the bathroom was quite disappointing, except for the toothbrush which he picked up and stuffed into his pocket. It has Dean’s DNA, _a part of him_ , he thought, _I have a part of Dean_. Just before he left the motel room, a note pad caught his eye, and, feeling in the mood for something risky, he decided to leave a note for his beloved.

_“Hello Dean,_

_I knew you would come to this motel. It fits your style. I quite like it for you. I followed you here, but don’t worry, you are in no danger. I’ll keep our little secret to myself. I’ll be by the soda machine at 7 if you want to meet. I would.”_

He hesitated, then in an effort to sound more friendly he added:

 _“-Castiel_  _”_

He knew this was beyond risky, beyond weird, but he really did want to meet Dean at least once, and if that did lead to him being murdered, well, it wouldn’t have only negatives.

He left the note on his bed, then returned to his own room.

He settled down on the bed deciding to rest until Dean returned from wherever he had been. He heard Dean come back about two hours later and peered out the window catching a glimpse of him seemingly calm and eating a doughnut. When the clock struck 7PM, he was standing at the soda machine, trying not to get his hopes to high, but secretly dying to see him. He waited until quarter past then had to accept Dean either hadn’t seen the letter, or did not want to meet. He dragged himself back to his room disappointed but not discouraged planning another letter mentally. He remembered locking his door, but surprisingly found it unlocked. _I must have forgotten in the middle of my excitement._ He walked into the dark room and laid down on the bed, face down. It was warm. And it smelled familiar. Just as the puzzle clicked into place, he heard his voice.

“Hey there Castiel, you wanted to meet ?”

Castiel jolted up noticing a figure standing in the corner of the room. It was him. It was Dean Winchester.

Castiel nodded, too stunned to utter a word.

“Well you’re one messed up son of a bitch…” Dean paused and took a few steps closer. Reflexively Castiel shifted backwards intimidated.

“Don’t worry. I don’t kill guys like you.” He assured him holding his hands up in defense. “ I think I’m actually just as scared as you are right now to be honest.”

Castiel seemed surprised and apologetic “I-I’m not…Why would you be scared ?”

Dean scoffed “You tracked me down. That’s kind of worrisome don’t you think ?”

Castiel felt embarrassed. “When you say it like that… yeah. But what about all those people ? You killed them.”

Dean shook his head. “No-well- yes, but they aren’t real people. They’re monsters.”

Dean stopped realizing how crazy he must sound. “So, like-yeah monsters are real…”

Castiel was surprised, confused, but somehow still trusted him. “I believe you.”

They share a long gaze trying to apprehend the other’s intentions.

“So, let me get this straight: you were able to track down a serial killer and you chose to follow him around like some groupie instead of calling the police ?”

Castiel shrugs. “You fascinate me. I wanted to know you better.”

All fear now gone, Castiel shifts to the edge of the bed and gets up to get closer to Dean.

“I think about you constantly and it fills me with excitement and curiosity. I wanted to be able to find you so I could be your next victim so I would get the pleasure of sharing such an intimate moment as my death with you, putting my life in your hands.”

He is now standing less than six feet away from Dean. It takes all of his strength to not reach out to touch him.

Dean seemed surprised himself this time. “You wanted me to kill you ?”

Castiel suddenly seemed embarrassed and ducked away from his gaze. “Yes… “

“Why ?” Dean asked trying to understand how this man he had never met and had no impulse or reason to kill would want to die by his hands.

Castiel still avoiding his gaze struggled to find an answer, but didn’t need to because Dean already knew. He wanted to die “by his hands”.

“You sick bastard, “ he taunted amused “you’re into me.”

Castiel didn’t dare move, worried it would reveal a clue in one way or another of the true motive of his search to Dean.

“C’mon, your type is supposed serial killers ?”

“Well… murder and sex are both highly erotically charged… it’s possible there’s a link…” he stated matter-of-factly.

The two of them stood there for a moment working through all they had learned about each other. Finally, Dean reached out touching Castiel’s shoulder.

“Well, let’s get to it then.”

A scared look passed over Castiel’s face. Dean chuckled. “No… not like that.”

“Oh so… not murder.” Castiel didn’t want to embarrass himself any further so he wanted to be sure.

“No Cas, I won’t kill you but, I will if you so desire, I will fuck you.”

Castiel thought he might die from sheer arousal. This was it the fantasy he had been obsessed with for years. “Yes-yes, please.”

Dean pulled him closer and pressed their lips together in a passionate kiss. He pushed Castiel backwards onto the bed. Castiel let himself be manhandled with joy, enjoying the idea of his body being manipulated by the same hands that had taken lives. Sensing how pleased his admirer was with him taking control Dean felt inclined to let go of his inhibitions. He straddled Castiel gripping his throat.

“You like this, you sick bastard?”

Castiel nodded his pupils dilated with adrenaline.

Dean unbuttoned Castiel’s shirt and tore away his tie to bite softly at his neck, eliciting a barely held back moan. He tightened his grip, nipping his way up and down Castiel’s throat, until he could feel him squirming beneath him and kicking off his slacks.

With only the thin layer of his underwear separating his skin from Dean’s, Castiel felt so vulnerable and yet so powerful. He had gotten what he wanted, convinced the infamous Dean Winchester to bed him. The sensations of pride and pleasure only grew stronger as he felt Dean slide his hand past the band of his boxer-briefs. He leaned into the touch grinding upward onto Dean, but soon Dean was pulling away, much to his dismay.

“Ts-ts… You gotta wait Cas… “, he teased before leaning back in to whisper in his ear, “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

The idea of what was to come made Castiel hum with anticipation.

Dean resumed his nipping while firmly grasping Castiel’s ass and tentatively prodding at his entrance. The tight opposition to his touch both excited him and let him know he wasn’t ready yet. He carried on, kissing his way down Castiel’s chest down to his navel. Once he reached the band of his underwear, he stopped yet again placing his hands around the other man’s hips and pulling upwards.

“I’mma need you to flip over if you want to get to the good stuff.” Dean suggested with a wink.

Castiel did as told with excitement. He could no longer see Dean, his face pressed against the mattress, but he could feel him shifting around behind him and his hands slowly tracing the contour of his back. He shivered as he felt Dean get closer to his ass and squeeze.

Before he could even process what was going on, Dean was spreading his cheeks, and next thing he knew, Dean’s tongue was circling his opening in a slow but intense pattern. Just when he thought he had reached maximum stimulation, Dean laid his tongue flat caressing the whole entrance at once. He couldn’t help but weep a bit at the sensation.

Dean noticed and stopped for a moment.

“You alright ? If you’re uncomfortable you can tell me…-”

“-No. K-keep going. Don’t stop…” Castiel pleaded

Dean was happy to oblige and resumed, slowly but surely incorporating one, then two fingers.

After what seemed like an eternity to him, Castiel heard the sound he had been waiting for, the light metallic sound of a zipper. Dean leaned in, rubbing his cock against his ass. Castiel grew impatient.

“God… just fuck me…” he groaned arching his back into Dean.

Dean scoffed, “Like this ? Raw ? That’s a whole new level of masochism… Excuse me for not wanting to hurt you but…-“

“Please, I don’t mind the pain, Dean… I want it.“, he panted, “I can’t stand anymore waiting… I need you in me, now.”

Dean took a moment to think, but ultimately gave into Castiel’s pleading. He grasped his hips, lined himself up and entered. He pushed in slowly trying his best not to hurt him, while focusing to not come immediately from the tight grip around his shaft. Castiel seemed to be enjoying it as well trembling and moaning into the sheets. He bottomed out and waited for a moment, before pulling back and starting a rhythm. Castiel shifted to adjust the angle allowing for Dean to graze his prostate with each stroke, sending shivers of pleasure and pain down his spine. Seeing Castiel writhe beneath him and feeling him clench around his length, Dean could feel the pressure building in his groin and his release growing close. He accelerated the motion, making Castiel whimper as he pressed harder and harder into him, until he could no more and froze, hit by the strength of his orgasm. He collapsed on top of Castiel, his chin resting in the crook of his neck. They stayed that way for a while with Dean kissing his neck and milking himself through his climax, and Castiel waiting calmly for him to come back to his senses, pleased to have pleased. Having finally caught his breath, Dean rolled off and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Wait right here, I’ll go start the shower...”

And before Castiel could say a word, he was gone. It wasn’t really possible, even if he had wanted to, for him to go anywhere in his current state, so he simply attempted rolling over so as to watch for when Dean would return. He could feel his erection against his stomach but lacked the strength to do anything about it, wanting Dean to be the one to bring him to completion. He let himself close his eyes and dose off basking in the post-sex sensation of pleasurable burning.

He was brought back to consciousness by the impression of weightlessness. Dean was carrying him. He looked up to cross Dean’s gaze who cracked a small cocky smile.

“You didn’t think I was going to leave you like this, did you ?”

Castiel didn’t know how to respond. He stared blankly up at Dean.

“No, c’mon what kind of jerk would leave you in a crusty bed with a hard on after you took it so well ? Not me…”

He sat Cas down on his feet insuring he could stand before opening the shower door.

Standing chest to chest in the shower Dean gave Castiel a sly look before kneeling down.

“You might want to hold onto the handrail…” he suggested before leaning in and sucking Castiel’s cock into his mouth.

Castiel grasped at the handrail with one, his legs going weak as Dean swirled his tongue around the tip before gulping his member deep into his throat, bobbing his head back and forth. His second hand settled into Dean’s hair gently pulling as he sucked and gulped. What topped it off for Castiel though, was the piercing stare of Dean’s bright green eyes, as he looked back up at him. It was enough to send him over the edge spilling into Dean’s throat. Dean kept going to ensure he had finished him off, swallowing every last drop of Cas. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and stood up grabbing a bottle of soap to wash them both off. The sensation of Dean washing him was almost too much for Castiel, but he loved it, almost as much as he loved feeling Dean twitch as he washed him. By the time they had finished cleaning off, they were ready for round two. They kept it simple this time, Dean simply pressing Castiel into the corner of the shower and pounding him from behind, then rinsing off. They eventually made it to the bed where they laid together peacefully.

Suddenly, a smirk appeared on Castiel’s face. Intrigued, Dean asked what he was thinking.

“Would you let me fuck you ?” Cas mumbled, shyly not wanting to cross a line.

Dean seemed to think for a moment. “Maybe not tonight. I’m not some weird masochist who does it without lube… but maybe someday.”

Castiel seemed confused. “You would want to see me again?”

Dean chuckled, “Yeah, sure, I mean, you aren’t scared of me and it’s not common to find people who will accept to sleep with an actively wanted man, even less hunt him down…”

Castiel smiled and rested his head on Dean’s chest.

They fell asleep in that position.

The next morning Castiel woke up alone in his bed. For a second, he feared he had dreamt it all, but the dull pain of sitting up testified to the veracity of the night’s events. Then he realized Dean was nowhere to be found and felt as though a boulder had fell into his stomach. Dean was gone. He left him after their night of passionate lovemaking, like some common one-night stand, like some everyday run of the mill victim of his. He didn’t even get the luxury of death’s kind amnesia. He was cursed to remember Dean. He got up and dragged himself to the kitchenette, hoping caffeine would take the edge off of his heartbreak. As he stood in front of the cupboard he noticed the notepad had been moved to the counter. He opened it up and to his surprise found a hand-scrawled note. Dean had left him a note.

_“Cas,_

_I would tell you not to look for me, since it’s dangerous, and I don’t want anyone involved in my shit, but I know you’re just too addicted to being a crazy stalker to care, so, until we see each other again, be careful. Next time you’ll find me we’ll pick up where we left off, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll give you my phone number. That depends on how well you rail me :p_

_Peace out you sick bastard,_

_-Dean”_

Castiel smiled, happy to know Dean wanted to see him again. _You just wait Winchester, you just wait…_


	2. Chapter 2

Dean had just finished his latest hunt. Even if he is aware that those he is killing are not human, and are dangers to society, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt for ending their lives on that fact alone. He always had a voice in the back of his head that reminded him of how he was also perceived as a monster by society, how come he wasn’t deserving of death? But just as the doubt started to engulf him, he heard a second voice, more stern, more commanding, but also clearer, tell him “They’re abominations, Dean. You must protect the civilians! Don’t get all soft over those freaks.” The same voice that had dealt him the final blow after kicking him out onto the streets at the tender age of eighteen for the act so natural, so human, of loving another, because it wasn’t humanity his father valued, it was normalcy. Even years past the event, even separated by six feet and hundreds of miles, Dean couldn’t escape his father.

He took a deep breath, trying to let go of the haunting memories, leaving them to stew in the stale air of the car which he had left behind.  
As he walked up to his room, he tried to focus his mind on his plans for the next few days. His job was done in town, but he quite liked the little town’s relaxed ambiance. Perhaps he should stay a few extra days, to take a break, let himself breathe. With the key idea of relaxation in mind, Dean entered his room, tossed his belongings aside, and let himself fall onto the motel bed. He laid there, attempting to relax, but couldn’t shake the tension from his body. There was no way he would fall asleep this way. He decided to do the next best thing and get himself something to eat. As he opens the cabinet door to grab a drink to rinse down his sandwich, a piece of paper hanging from the cabinet door catches his eye.

« Hello Dean,  
I told you we would meet again.  
Since the last time we saw each other you have changed your habits... became easier for me to track down. I feel like you’re going soft on me... I´m flattered but also somewhat insulted, you know that I will find you, it takes away from the thrill...  
In this cabinet you will find a small pill bottle. Take two. They’re sleeping pills. If you don’t trust me you can ask the pharmacy down the street, but you know I wouldn’t want to hurt you, at least not if you didn’t want me to...You need some rest and it will give me the time to break in and set the mood, and when you wake up, well rested, the fun will begin.  
-Castiel ;) »

Intrigued, Dean reaches for the bottle and unscrews it. There are a few pills laying in the bottom. He pops them out into his hand and examines them. Wanting to see where this all lead, and trusting Castiel’s good faith, he gulps them down with a large glass of water, and settles onto the bed, waiting patiently while recalling their previous encounter...

Dean wakes up to see Castiel staring at him from the opposite side of the room, fully clothed, but visibly aroused.  
“Were you watching me sleep you freak?” Dean asks feigning disgust  
Castiel shrugs “Yes.”  
Dean seems somewhat surprised by his candour.  
“It’s not like it’s any different from other evenings...”  
Dean chuckles. “Touché.”  
Castiel walks over to the bed while Dean sits up. “What will set this evening apart is the fact that I get to partake in it.” He whispers as he leans in. “I promise this evening will be memorable. Cathartic, even...I’ve been through all of your shameful little files of fantasies, stolen your psych docs and... woah... you thought I was fucked up for wanting to hunt down a killer, but you’re one to talk... Freud built his whole career around you.”  
Dean tries to escape this confrontation by turning his head, but Cas grasps his chin firmly, forcing Dean to cross his gaze as he shrugged off his coat  
“Don’t worry though, Dean. Daddy’s home now.”  
Dean diverts his gaze, as he feels Castiel press a soft kiss onto his forehead.

Dean looks back up at him, and he can see he struck a nerve in the slight glimmer of vulnerability in Dean’s eyes before he regained his facade  
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a daddy type... especially with how happy you were to- “  
Dean couldn’t even finish his sentence before Castiel had slammed him into the bed. He caught the breath that had been punched from his lungs, while Castiel leaned in and stated in a seductive tone.  
“I’m a skilled man, Dean. I can play many roles.”  
Dean felt a shiver run down his spine and a twitch down below.  
Castiel bites and kisses his way down his neck softly humming praises.  
“Especially when it comes to you… You’re so beautiful Dean... I still can’t believe I found you after all my searching… You are my guiding star, my idol, the most important person in my life... I admire you.”  
Dean squeezes his eyes shut as if to shield himself from the adoration, moaning ever so lightly when Castiel nips at his throat.  
Castiel pressed himself against Dean spreading his legs with his own. They grind into each other in a way reminiscent of many of Dean’s shame filled hook-ups during his youth, but different in virtue of the reassuring praise he received, a deep calming voice covering his internal monologue. For each dirty sneer he heard in his mind he felt it be shut down by Castiel’s soothing tone and worshipping gestures. He let himself enjoy the idea of being cared for and admired.  
Castiel feels him relax into his touch, and reaches into his own pocket to retrieve the lube he had planned.  
He slowly works Dean open, while stroking him, never stopping the praise, except for a light kiss on the lips to swallow his moans.

As he can feel Dean nearing release, he pulls away slightly to allow penetration. He slides in effortlessly, Dean being fully relaxed under him.  
He positions Dean beneath him in missionary, Dean’s legs wrapped around his waist, and stares into his eyes as he initiates a sustained rhythm of come and go, intermittently pressed flush against Dean, then looking down over his pleasure contorted body. If getting Dean to fuck him had filled him pride, he couldn’t exactly put the words onto what he felt fucking him. It filled him with a feeling of power, but also bore the burden of knowing he was in charge of pleasing the object of his admiration. The task consumed him, but he rejoiced himself in the idea of disappearing so fully into it. His pleasure came from Dean’s.

As Dean hits his high, he let out a soft cry and Cas could swear he hears Dean apologize under his breath. It takes him a few more seconds to recognize Dean is talking to his father as tears roll down his cheeks. Seeing Dean so overwhelmed, he hesitates to stop but Dean pulls him closer and mutters a barely audible “Keep moving… please, I need to feel you come inside me.” before Dean lets out another silent sob, a fresh batch of tears rolling down his flushed cheeks.  
Castiel laps them away, kissing all over his face, and comforts him as he finishes.

He slides out and holds Dean against his chest until he feels his breathing even out. He tilts Dean’s face upwards and kisses his forehead. Dean closes his eyes, avoiding eye contact, before flipping over while still in his embrace. Dean can’t help but feel comforted being spooned. It was quite rare for him to feel so vulnerable around anyone. Once he can sense his voice was steady, betraying none of the emotional turmoil around his vulnerability, Dean asks Castiel to never speak of his reaction.  
He agrees but can’t resist the opportunity to humour him.  
“Tell me Dean, was this really the first time you let yourself be topped?”  
Dean chuckles, trying to summon back up his façade, “No… “, but finally gives in “- but it was the first time that it felt so damn good.” He pauses “Usually, I regret it and barely even remember the person’s face… but I could tell you the colours and textures of every single bar bathroom wall in Kansas.” He adds trying to make light of it.  
Castiel kisses his shoulder squeezing him softly.  
“You deserve better than that Dean. You deserve to be worshipped.” He hums, his lips barely an inch away from his ear. He bites his ear softly, and Dean turns his head so they can share a kiss.  
As Dean settles back into his arms, he adds, “-and I promise to remind you of that”  
Dean doesn’t answer but Castiel can feel him blush.  
They spend the night together. Dean cooks them a simple meal and they fall asleep watching an old western on TV.  
The next morning, Cas wakes up to a full breakfast and a letter on the small motel table.  
"

_“Hey Cas,_  
_I hate to leave you like this, like a thief in the middle of the night, but I really suck at goodbyes. Thanks for showing me such a good time. I hope I’ll see you again soon, but until then stay out of trouble. It might be easier to find me this way, and might take away from the fun, but if you ever want to intentionally meet me here’s my number: ….  
-Dean”_

Castiel smiled ever so lightly, trying not to acknowledge the part of him that longed for Dean to stay. _I will find him soon enough,_ he reassured himself. 


End file.
